


Seekers

by JoAsakura



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Noir, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take one part suicide squad, one part dragon age, two parts crazy fool, and season liberally with wild falsehoods.</p><p>Anders is an unwilling Seeker forced on a suicidal mission for the Chantry. Will he and his reluctant team of criminals and fools be able to stop the villainous Nightingale before all-out war erupts?</p><p>WIP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"All aboard the Antivan Queen! Stops at Antiva City, Llomerryn, Seere, and straight on t'Minrathous." the elhvan porter called from the gangplank of the enormous steamship docked at Kirkwall's Gallows Port.

Even though the modern way to travel across Thedas was said to be the new rail lines, border tensions between the Free Marches and the Tevinter Imperium had suspended the completion of any significant railroads.

Besides, Anders thought as he plucked irritably at the lyrium bomb strapped against his throat, if that insufferable prig Sebastian's information was right, his target would be coming onboard in Llomerryn.

With a sigh, Anders lugged his heavy traveling chest up the gangplank and cursed his fate again.

~~

Despite the Chantry's massive political power, a web of influence that spread outwards from Orlais, it was still hampered by pesky things such as local kings and the continued existence of the hated Imperium.

As such, it couldn't send its Templars to apprehend heretics and abominations with quite the abandon as it might have a few hundred years before, and highly trained agents of the Divine herself were too precious to waste on missions with a high possibilty of failure. So, to get around that, the Chantry had long cultivated an unwilling network of prisoners - apostates, thieves, pirates and other assorted scum - into doing their dirtiest of work.

If they succeeded, a number of points would be added to their "accounts" with the Chantry, and enough points led to freedom and a new life with a clean slate.

Anders had escaped from the Circle of Magi seven times. That already had branded him a troublemaker of the highest order. The last time, he had escaped right into the arms of the Grey Wardens, and had taken the Calling as a means of permanent escape from the long arm of the church.

Unfortunately, things happened. Very bad things. Things that had left a number of wardens AND templars dead, and Anders with a Spirit lodged in his soul. And the Warden Commander had turned the mage over to the Templars in the hopes of making it all go away.

But the very things that had landed Anders in the bad graces of nearly everyone, had also caught the attention of the Seekers. And given the choice between the Rite of Tranquility and service with a bomb strapped around his neck, anders chose the latter.

After all, you couldn't plan an escape if they lobotomised you, could you?


	2. Chapter 2

One Day Prior:

"So, you've got your cover sorted?" Sebastian drawled in his nearly-impenetrable Starkhavian burr. Anders often wondered what the choir boy had done to land him in the Seekers. He was insufferably pious and quite obviously a good Chantry worker bee. From the mage's perspective, even being a handler in the Seekers seemed like a punishment, but he hadn't been able to get anything out of the man other than "'tis the Maker's will."

Anders straightened his new coat and looked himself over in the mirror. Neat dark suit. Extravagantly feathered overcoat. everything with a high enough collar to hide the deadly necklace he wore. The mage had even shaved, although a brassy stubble was already starting to show again.

"I'm a legitimately licensed mage going to Minrathous for a convention to discuss new cures for possession. How ironic." Anders answered, wondering if the sarcasm in his voice would reach the robed ninny sitting behind him. Anders' cell was cramped, barely enough room for a narrow bed and his desk, and Sebastian took up too much precious space with his sprawl.

"Well, if you do well, I'm sure I'll be able to get you your feline privileges back." the handler said with an oblivious smile. "I know you like cats."

Anders sighed. "You said I would be working with others on this mission?" He asked as he turned, shooing Sebastian out of his chair.

"Aye. The Nightingale is dangerous enough, but we've word she may be meeting up with others. Your team will assemble on the Antivan Queen." Sebastian plopped on Anders' bed, undeterred by the mage's glare.

"I prefer working alone." Anders muttered, pushing some papers around on his desk.

"But it's not like you've got a choice." Sebastian said, pushing to his feet and giving Anders a pat on the shoulder. "your gear will be waiting downstairs for you."

~~

Now:

(At least they sprang for a proper stateroom) Anders thought as he shoved his case in a corner of the plush little room. It was barely bigger than his cell, but the walls were covered in lavish chintz and the carpet was thick enough to bury your toes in. The bed he flopped down on was a small luxury of feather pillows and velvet coverlets.

With a heavy sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pair of glasses. A small, brilliant bit of magic the Chantry had little problem using, he thought. "Sebastian, i'm in." He said as put them on. "Can I petition to have wallpaper in my hovel?" He added.

"Not that and a kitten, i'm afraid." Sebastian's voice burred in his ear. "Check in again after you cast off."

Anders pulled the glasses of and looked at them. It was tempting, the thought to smash them, and take off once he was in Minrathous. But the Chantry held the activation key to the lyrium bomb, and if it was shown that he'd gone "off the grid", Sebastian (despite his seemingly helpful nature) would have little qualms about pulling the trigger and blowing Anders' head off. After all, the Seekers had done it to Karl.

(They'd gone after an abomination in the deep roads beneath Kirkwall, two expendable mages alone, and Karl had panicked, ran, and by the time Anders had caught up to him, the collar was already glowing. He had screamed into the communicator, begging them to stop. But there was no turning back, and he could smell the burning flesh and hair and see the spatter of brains and he would kill them kill them kill..)

"Hey, hey, easy there." someone was saying and Anders blinked awake in a terror.


	3. Chapter 3

Anders' fingers dug hard into a man's stubbled chin. Power seeped through his pores, crackling along the fine hairs on the back of his hand. (It would be so easy to kill him, easy as plucking a piece of fruit.)

The spirit of vengeance that had burrowed into the mage's soul was howling behind anders' eyes to kill the intruder sitting blithely on his chest.(How dare he come in here, you can smell the templars on him, do it)

But the man didn't flinch, and as the haze of rage cleared, the Mage found himself looking into very clear grey-green eyes. Gently, the man wrapped his own fingers (long, nimble, like a magician's) around Anders' wrist and slid the mage's hand downwards.

Anders let him, trailing his palm down the stranger's vulnerable throat until it came to rest against a familiar shape. (a chantry collar) The lyrium tingled under his touch, but the stranger's heartbeat was even stronger, hammering hard in contrast to the man's calm face.

"messere anders, I suppose?"

~~

They sat like that for several moments, assessing each other. The faded remains of a shallow chasind-style tattoo graced one side of the man's handsome face, half-hidden under a sweep of russet hair and the scrabbly beginnings of a beard. He was dressed plainly, rumpled clothes under a long, hooded coat. The coat was expensive, the shirt and trousers were cheap, and he looked entirely too comfortable straddling the mage's chest. Slowly, he let go of anders' wrist and let his hands fall to his sides with a rueful quirk of a smile. "anders?" he repeated.

The Mage blinked again and nodded, regretfully withdrawing his own hand, splayed on the stranger's warm chest for an indecently long time. "Maybe. You are...?" he squeaked out.

"a good little chantry dog like yourself." he said, sliding off his perch on anders' chest. "Hawke."

The moan that slipped out of Anders wasn't exactly voluntary as Hawke slid downwards, straddling the mage's hips before he clambered off the narrow bunk. "are you flirting with me, messere?" anders asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Depends. Is it working?" hawke asked, opening his own suitcase on the opposite bunk.

"It's been a while, but I would say yes."

"Then I am absolutely flirting with you." hawke grinned.

Maybe this assignment wouldn't be so bad after all, anders found himself thinking. 

"So, what are you in for?" the man asked. His suitcase was filled with weapons- knives, grenade vials, a set of handguns - all neatly packed under a layer of sloppy clothing.

"Oh, things and such." Anders sat up. "I've done a few things." he paused. "Plus, i'm an abomination." he added, waiting for Hawke's reaction.

"That must explain the whole sexy, tortured look you have going on." the man replied, spinning a pair of daggers through his fingers before they vanished into his coat.

"That's it? A total stranger tells you they're possessed by a fade spirit, and you continue to flirt with them?" Anders shook his head. "You're either obtuse or you're crazy."

"I figure I have more to fear from this..." Hawke ran his thumb along the bomb collar. "..than from you." He leaned forward, very close to Anders with a grin. "But I *have* been called crazy, too."

 

~~~

It was then that Anders became aware of the faint movement of the ship. "Shit. I was supposed to check in with the handler when we cast off. How long was I asleep for, anyways?"

"About an hour." Hawke shrugged, going back to his gear. "I checked in with Sebastian and let him listen to your snoring."

His back was facing Anders, but the mage was certain Hawke had a grin on his face. The man seemed to smile too easily. It was a little distressing.

"So. What are our orders from the choir boy?"

"He gave me a location on the ship for us to meet our other two team members." Hawke said, finally taking his longcoat off. there was no sign of any of the weapons that had vanished into its folds. "We have about an hour or so." 

He started unbuttoning his shirt and Anders made a sharp sound. "Hawke?"

"I *was* going to get changed. I'm not fond of these clothes." Hawke waggled his eyebrows. "But I suppose I *could* oblige your dirty mind."

This assignment was *definitely* going to be different, Anders affirmed for himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Hawke seemed to have absolutely no sense of modesty as he slid the thin cotton shirt from his shoulders.

(maker. I know why they dressed him like this) anders thought inanely as vengeance gibbered it's disapproval in the back of his brain. 

The shlumpy cut of the outfit didn't do anyone any favours, but out of the shirt, anders could see his erstwhile roommate had an exceptionally nice form. Not over muscled, like a knight's, but all long bones and lean muscle. And it was clear, through the thin knit of his undergarments that he shared the same need thankfully hidden by the bulk of anders' coat. "so, I'll bite." anders said as hawke slid the cheap trousers down his hips. "what are *you* in for? You don't look like an apostate."

Hawke tucked a bit of fox-red hair behind his ear. "things and stuff." he grinned, scratching a series of scars on his arm that seemed only recently healed.

"touché." anders snorted. The other man made a broad gesture, showing off the span of his chest, fine red hairs bright in the glow of the lamps and the Mage shook his head. "you satisfied my dirty mind, hawke. You're actually... Gorgeous." he said. "but I think we should... Discuss the matters at hand." 

"spoilsport." hawke sagged over-dramatically. "my ego is crushed."

"I highly doubt that." anders pushed off the bed, brushing hawke's bare back as he reached for his own travel case. "we should compare information before we meet with the others."

Hawke caught his hand. "another time, then?" he said with a sly smile before letting go.

"you're incorrigible." anders said. It would be too easy to get caught up in hawke's easy nature, he thought, lugging the case onto his narrow bed. Behind his own folded clothing were a series of drawers. Most were filled with potions and salves, as well as a full medical kit. Out of a long, velvet-lined section, he pulled out a segmented staff and a packet of papers.

As he began to reassemble his staff, anders nodded towards the paper. "whenever you're ready."

~~

It was common for each seeker on a team to be only given a portion of the information for a mission. The reasoning being that if any one convict decided to betray the chantry, they wouldn't have enough leverage to sell out the entire mission. On solo assignments, anders frequently didn't know what he was doing until he'd actually arrived on scene.

Hawke had regrettably put on other clothes. Close-fitting, lightweight and sombre in dark red, olive and black. Before zipping up, he pulled a small pendant on. A crow's skull, cast in bronze.

Anders stared at it. "you're an assassin."

Hawke kissed the skull and closed his shirt. "and you're an abomination." he answered with a rueful smile. "we all have our pasts, messere." he raked back his fox-coloured hair and sat down next to anders. "Once upon a time, I was hired to retrieve some... Things from an orlesian noble." hawke fidgeted his long fingers before up pulling on his gloves. "I fulfilled my portion of it. Seduced the duke's son, gained access to the chateau. And my associate.. Left me holding the proverbial bag."

Anders was fascinated by hawke's fingers, and caught them in his own narrow hand. "you're making me nervous." he said by way of excuse. 

"turned out the thing I'd been hired to retrieve was a batch of qunari documents, and I found myself caught between agents of the Divine, some tal-vashoth, and a very angry wyvern." he laughed. "I killed a few important people and hightailed it back to Kirkwall."

"and that's what got you pinched by the seekers?" anders asked, realising suddenly that he was still holding hawke's hand. 

"no, they didn't find out about that until after I was in jail for beating a bunch of Templars into a gritty paste after I got back to lowtown and found them hauling my sister off to the circle." hawke grinned and it had a decidedly brittle edge. "so. What was your story?"

"well, at least you only beat them to a pulp." anders said ruefully. "i... My passenger.. I may have eaten.. A couple." he added quickly. He felt a sick gratification as hawke's eyebrows lifted.

"you win."


	5. Chapter 5

Whatever satisfaction Anders had felt, soon dulled as they pored over the papers he'd brought. He had timetables and a map of the enormous vessel. Hawke had a small photo album full of grainy images of men and women in sombrely ostentatious Tevinter fashions. They both knew things were going to heat up once they got to llomerryn.

And precious little else.

Vengeance fumed in the back of his skull, chafing against their predicament and the Mage rubbed his eyes. "hopefully our other companions will have the keys we need to figure out who these people are." he sighed. "we just don't know enough about how all this relates to the Nightingale."

"Llomerryn." hawke chewed on the end of ander's pen, muttering, his booted feet up on the small whitewood desk the cabin sported.

"the Llomerryn Accords." Anders blurted out suddenly, and he shoved hawke's feet off the desk to look at the blotter- a calendar on heavy cream paper.

"knickerweasels!" anders cursed, stabbing at the date printed in bright red ink. "Treaty Day." he muttered, doing the math in his head. He may have loathed life in the circle of magi, but he'd done well in history classes, and if he had his dates right, this was the fiftieth anniversary of the treaty that ended the long, bloody war with the qunari. One or two elderly mages in the tower had spoken about it, and their descriptions of the sarebaas, the qunari bound mages, had given Anders nightmares for weeks.

He rifled through the timetables in his stack and ran his finger down the Antivan Queen's itinerary. "we're docking in Llomerryn in time for the anniversary festivities."

"you said the target was supposedly boarding there." hawke leaned over him to look at the timetables, pressing close, and anders felt that uncomfortable twitch in his pants again.

(maker.) he thought irritably. (that's it. I'm going to take him up on that offer.) after all, it wasn't likely he'd see hawke again after this, once they were both locked back up in their respective prisons. And Vengeance hadn't hurt Karl when they'd grappled, desperate for some sort of intimacy, when they'd briefly been out of the gaze of the Chantry.

Like this.

He lifted his hand to touch Hawke's scruffy chin, and the assassin's lips curled into a sly smile.

But before he could kiss him, the clock on the wall struck 6pm. Somewhere above, on the first class deck, the dinner trumpet began to sound. And they had a meeting to keep.

"knickerweasels."

~~~

The sea air blowing across the second-class promenade deck was bracingly cold, compared to the warmth of the cabin, and Anders hunkered down into his feathered coat. Hawke simply pulled his hood up, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I hear they're having pigeon pie a la Fereldan on tonight's dinner menu." hawke said, conversationally, as they walked in the opposite direction from the dining hall. "just like mum used to make. Oh, and smoked ham from the anderfels."

"ham from the anderfels. Great." anders said, burrowing further into his coat as other passengers passed them, chatting brightly. "it probably tastes like despair." hawke laughed and the Mage grimaced at him. "seriously, worst ham ever."

They paused in the shadow of one of the massive smokestacks that towered over the ship, hawke's hand lightly resting on anders' arm. "we have company." he whispered, lips barely brushing the mage's skin.

Anders shivered as he looked up and saw the woman first. It was impossible not to.

She wasn't beautiful, at least, not in the sense of saccharine, rosy-cheeked pinups that some of his fellow apprentice mages occasionally managed to smuggle in. But she was incredibly striking, and the cream-coloured silks and ostentatious gold jewellery glowing against her warm brown skin only heightened that impression.

She peered over her shoulder, wrapped in furs against the chill, and gave anders a little wink. His trousers quickly reminded him that ladies were quite acceptable as well, and the spirit in his brain called him a degenerate for focusing on carnal matters at all, let alone now and could they just get this over with?

Anders sighed. Danger on missions normally came from demons, monsters, maelificar or lyrium-addled madmen. It most certainly didn't come from the surfeit of erections he'd been experiencing.

He supposed it beat being devoured by some hideous undead, at least.

Behind the woman, a lanky elf lurked. His garments were cut in Tevinter fashion, high-collared and full of fussy, odd, geometric quilting and appliqués. He was tanned, and the white tattoos on his chin stood out in high relief. The tattoos and his bare feet made anders wonder if the elf was a Dalish clansman, but he was fairly sure that no Dalish would ever wear the clothes of the country that still legally enslaved their kin.

The elf's hair was as white as the odd markings, and where the woman was looking at them with the same sort of clever little grin that Hawke seemed to be so fond of, the elf watched their approach with curious sort of apathetic hostility.

"oh, splendid." the elf drawled in a surprisingly deep voice. "a Mage. I can't see how this will possibly go wrong."

Anders felt his smile falter. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Anders thinks he might not survive long enough to make it to Antiva City, let alone Llomerryn.
> 
> a short update. more later, I hope!

"well, the handler told me we'd be meeting two little birds." the woman purred, quirking an eyebrow as she looked over Anders' coat. "I didn't expect one of them to be a noisy crow." her dark eyes turned chilly as she focused on Hawke.

Anders and the elf both turned to stare at Hawke who grinned and shrugged broadly. "Isabela. It's so nice to see you again as well."

"you two know each other then?" anders said, feeling a strange flare of irrational jealousy. Then he blinked. "wait, Isabela. THE Isabela? Queen of the eastern seas, who stole an entire ship filled with lyrium bound for ferelden and sank it in the waking seas as an act of defiance against the Chantry?"

Anders realised he'd almost been shouting when hawke casually elbowed him in the ribs and the woman started to laugh hysterically, jewellery clinking as she threw her head back. "well, then, that's quite the story, dove. And where did you hear something like that?"

"there's a series of dime novels in the gallows library." Anders coughed and smoothed his coat. "purporting to be the true and unembellished adventures of the dread pirate queen." the other three were still staring at him and the Mage huffed. "what?"

"I *like* you." Isabela grinned, latching on to Anders' arm, and pressing her ample bosom against him. "let's retire back to my cabin, shall we?"

(maker's breath) anders was about to stammer out some sort of ludicrous reply when the elf made an exasperated noise.

"it's *our* cabin, and what she's trying to say is we can discuss our mutual business, Mage, before you embarrass all of us with whatever stupidity was going to come out of your mouth again." he snarled. "and it's cold out here. I despise the cold."

Anders snapped his mouth shut, hearing Hawke suppress a tiny, strangled giggle beside him. Isabela pouted and let the mage go with a dramatic sigh. "Fenris, you have such pretty eyes, but a terribly nasty mouth." she said in a way that made it sound like she didn't mind his nasty mouth one bit. "fine. Have it your way."

Vengeance had fallen silent in the back of anders' brain, and he wondered if the fade spirit was as confused as he was. Especially when Hawke leaned across him to grin at the pirate queen. "you already have a broody elf, Isabela. I saw *this* one first anyways."

"can we please make this not about which one of you is going to ravish me first?" Anders blurted out, and the elf threw his hands up in disgust.

"this is worse than any prison sentence." Fenris spat. "two horny fools and a Mage. *Brilliant*."

"spoilsport." Isabela pouted again, in a tone distressingly similar to the one Hawke had used on him earlier. "all right, captain broodypants." she sniffed, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "after you."

Anders fished a pocket watch from his coat and looked at it. He'd been on board the Antivan Queen less than four hours, and he was already exhausted. If this kept up, he was sure he'd be dead by Antiva City, mission or no.


End file.
